


What's Within

by Daiako (Achrya)



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Dubious Consent, Force Bond (Star Wars), Forced Bonding, Injury, Intersex Omegas, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Nightmares, Power Dynamics, That's Not How The Force Works
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24516253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Daiako
Summary: In a world where Qui-Gon lives, Anakin becomes Qui-Gon’s padawan. Eight years later Obi-Wan is called back to the Temple to, it turns out, clean up after his former master one last time. Certain important facts have been kept hidden, Anakin's life is at risk, and it falls to Obi-Wan to save him.He can only hope Anakin will forgive him for it once he realizes just what's been taken from him.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 34
Kudos: 257





	1. Coming to Each Other's Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Will be using prompts from various '30 Prompt OTP' lists, hopefully constructed into a more or less linear narrative.

It was not often that Obi-Wan was recalled from the field to return to the Temple for ‘an emergency’. And by often he meant ‘never’. There had been times when an unexpected revelation or occurrence changed the parameters of his mission or a more serious situation arose that demanded his immediate attention but nothing quite like this. It was concerning to be recalled so urgently and yet not be told anything of the reason. Master Yoda had given an impression of being almost...wary over the holocall, voice pitched lower and words spoken a little slower, most of his attention not on Obi-Wan but on something, or someone, he couldn’t see. 

It was hard for him to imagine anything this urgent that required him specifically. Try as he might he could think of nothing he could do that another more experienced and skilled jedi could not, and there was certainly no shortage in supply of those. No matter how people liked to harp on his ‘people skills’, he was hardly the only person around who could sway others to his side with his words or the best at applying a light force touch. He was a practiced duelist, yes, but again not the best, for all that it was likely he was being recalled for something related to combat. He was a Guide, and one of the few Five-Point Guides at that, but his skills were rarely called on because of his alpha nature. 

It was not rare, exactly, for Guides to be alphas, though certainly it was usually omegas and betas who swayed that way, but it did make him something of an oddity among his peers, as did the high marks in the Five Points. As a five-pointer he had more aspects of his empathy that he could manipulate than most, but it mattered little when most Sentinels instinctively fought against him. It was hard for alphas to push past the territorial part of themselves, being an innate and inborn trait they all possessed to some degree, and that was especially true when it came to allowing another alpha access to their hearts and minds. 

The more serious a situation the harder it was for Obi-Wan to get through to an alpha Sentinel; when their higher brains shut down that left only the hurt and angry instinct driven brain to take charge. Alphas in that state were likely to attack on sight, if they’d gone feral, or come out of their Zone violent, or retreat even further in his presence. Training with Master Qui-Gon, a four-sense alpha Sentinel, had done a lot to help him when it came to masking his presence, making his empathic touch lighter, and keeping himself tightly controlled (when he was young and just coming into himself there had been...incidents.) so as not to put other alphas off but all the same unless a situation was near hopeless and required what Master Windu called ‘Delicate overwhelming force’ there were better always Jedi for the job. 

Tought, it was possible he had been called to help with a newly presented omega Sentinel. He’d considered that on his hurried return to the Temple and when he landed and was directed directly to the medbay as soon as his boots were on the ground he became more sure of it. He wasn’t even to stop in his quarters or debrief, which was an indicator of how serious whatever was happening must have been. 

He considered it more as he walked the, unfortunately, familiar path to the Healing Halls, wondering how likely it was. Omega Sentinels were actually rare, occurring at a quarter of the rate of alpha Guides, and while alpha Sentinels usually came into themselves gradually omegas tended towards their senses trying to come online all at once. It could be overwhelming, especially if they weren’t already set up with a Guide, but that never happened. If an omega Sentinel wasn’t on the path to being pair bonded by their first heat they were reassigned to the Service Corps. 

But if, somehow, one needed help and wasn’t yet paired Obi-Wan might be called in. There were other alpha Guides, but maybe they’d needed someone with more than one or two Points controlled or maybe he was the closest unbonded one available. Maybe he just have more experience than those more readily available. 

Obi-Wan had only had the dubious pleasure of meeting only two omega Sentinels, Dooku, his former master’s master, and Quinlan Vos, and that had been enough to let him know that if another arrived at the temple he wouldn’t offer himself as a pair bond candidate. 

He wasn’t always sure if it was because he doubted his ability to be everything an omega of that nature would need, to become the complete center of another person’s world, or just because he hadn’t been able to let go of his feelings regarding Quinlan, who had decided to bond with his Master Tholme rather than any of the other options available to him, as well as he should 

Obi-Wan was unsure of his emotions far more than he liked to admit to, but he was very sure what he felt when he was directed to a private room and found Master Windu and Master Jinn waiting for him was Dread.

It might have shown on his face because Qui-Gon’s smile was wan. Or maybe his former master just knew him that well even now. They hadn’t spoken often in the years since Obi-Wan’s rather forceful promotion to Knight; he had jumped headfirst into his duties and avoided the temple as often as he could and Qui-Gon had moved on to Anakin without a glance back. When they did cross paths there wasn’t much to be said and the air was always...stilted. 

Obi-Wan had spent many hours meditating through the tangled knot of emotion his master had left him with, unraveled it as best he could, looked frankly at the roots and then gave it all up to the force, released it like a Jedi should. He’d spoken to the Guides in the healing circle, appreciated their council as well as their ability to help center and purge one's heart and mind, distanced himself, and taken all the steps one should. He’d learned to turn the anger he felt at the mention of Qui-Gon into something quieter and smaller. He’d accepted, with the fading of time, how things had turned out. 

But none of that made his stomach not turn over with unease as he approached the waiting men. “Master Windu, Master Jinn.”

Qui-Gon inclined his head in acknowledgement but it was Mace, brows furrowed and expression pinched, who spoce. “Knight Kenobi, thank you for returning to  Coruscant as quickly as you did, and accept my apology for the...secrecy of what you were called for.” 

Obi-Wan nodded his understanding, keeping his face carefully blank. It would have been rude, after all, to gape in the face of an apology from Mace Windu, even if the only other time he could recall it happening was right he’d become a Knight in the same breath that announced Anakin would become Qui-Gon’s padawan. Windu had taken him aside after, offered genuine congratulations and then said he was sorry. 

“This isn’t how your knighting should have happened.” Windu’s eyes were focused on the hall before them but Obi-Wan knew it was he who actually had the man’s attention. “Know the Council would have done things differently, if we could.” 

“There’s no need for that.” He said instead then, eyes darting to the closed door the men were flanking, he added lightly. “But I must confess I am curious about what you are guarding and what you need me for.” 

Mace looked askance at Qui-Gon. “It’s Skywalker. It would seem Master Jinn has failed to inform the council of certain developments and found himself in a situation he cannot manage on his own.” 

“Oh?” Obi-Wan looked at his former master, an image of just what was happening already starting to piece itself together. An image that, unfortunately, painted the picture of a situation he had no issue believing Qui-Gon would get into if he thought the end result was worth it. An image that was a bit concerning, to say the absolute least of the matter. 

Qui-Gon’s face changed minutely but Obi-Wan could read the impatience in the lines around his mouth and the set of his jaw as well as he’d been able to a when they'd parted ways. He could also smell, through a nose burningly heavy mask of incense and sweat (his former master was lucky that his sense of smell was the one of the five that wasn’t enhanced) the faintest hint of irritation. Obi-Wan doubted most would be able to pick up on it, but years in the man’s company had made if not an open book then one translated well enough. 

“If I had believed the council would accept Anakin knowing what he is I wouldn’t have hidden it.” Qui-Gon spoke with the air of one who had already explained himself many many times, and would prefer to not do so again. “And things were well in hand before the...situation on Raydonia, which even you must concede couldn’t have been foreseen.” 

Windu rolled his eyes then pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture that always came when he was attempting to stay calm. (Obi-Wan went from mildly concerned to ‘officially worried’.) “The ‘situation’ on Raydonia wouldn’t have become this out of control if you had taken care of matters with Skywalker as you should have-” 

“I can hardly-” 

“You have a responsibility to him, and you have neglected it!” Windu snapped. Obi-Wan slipped right into ‘alarmed’; He looked down the hallway, wondering if stepping away and returning in a few moments would be the best course of action. Qui-Gon stopped short, expression shuttering. “You are aware of the needs of an omega Sentinel and instead of seeing them taken care of, and allowing the Council to know so his needs could be accounted for, you kept the truth to yourself, because you disagree with our practices. Harm has been done and there is a chance it cannot be fixed.”

“What will become of your prophecy if Kenobi is unable to reach Skywalker?” Windu shook his head, deflating some as he fixed dark, tired eyes on Obi-Wan. “Skywalker is a Five-Sense Sentinel. He was injured during a fight on Raydonia and Dropped. Master Jinn was unable to coax him out, as he’s done multiple times in the past.” 

Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the sharp look he sent his former master’s way. Qui-Gon was a Sentinel, but his master was a Guide and he’d done quite well training Obi-Wan, so he had little doubt he could serve as an interim guide to someone in an emergency situation. But to do so more than once was a risk: it could cause an unnatural imprint and that would only hurt the imprinting Sentinel because reciprocation was impossible. Beyond that it could damage a Sentinel’s ability to connect to Guides later, as familiarity with non-Guide leading and soothing could make them reject the distinctly different presence of a Guide reaching out to them. And that was just doing so occasionally. If Qui-Gon had been acting as Anakin's Guide, however efficiently he may have done so, it was going to cause problems. 

That Anakin was a five-sense Sentinel just compounded the issues. With all five senses acutely attuned to the force and able to be ‘dialed’ up or down at will, five-sense alphas were both an asset and a liability. They needed special handling and leading, because when they became overwhelmed it was harder to bring them out, and the chance of slipping from a surface Zone to a full drop or a coma increased with time. But Anakin had started in a Drop, which meant that all of his senses were out of alignment, and that he was under so much strain he'd disassociated to protect his mind. 

The longer a Sentinel was Dropped the higher the chance that there body would shut down, organ by organ, as all energy was diverted to protecting the brain from overload. 

Qui-Gon had always been unconventional in his opinions on omegas, pointing at his own master as proof that a pair bond wasn't needed. The system, Qui-Gon believed, was flawed, discriminatory to Omegas, and the allowance for attachment in some, under the guise of unchangeable 'natures' was one of the Order's greatest mistakes. Omegas, and especially omega Sentinels, could exist without a person taking control of them and their lives, and to suggest otherwise was just subscribing to outdated omega oppressive views that the Jedi should have evolved past, his former master had told him more than once. They were only a step or two away from collaring the omega members of their order and was that not just another step from keeping them as slaves? Were Jedi not above that?

Obi-Wan had never had a real opinion on that matter, aside from wishing his master would be less loud about his views in front of the High Council. 

“How long has he been under?” Obi-Wan asked, feeling decidedly unnerved at the look the two older men exchanged before answering him. 

“Ten days.” Qui-Gon said. Obi-Wan opened his mouth then shut it, words failing him. “Returning to Coruscant took most of the time. I kept him in a forced meditative state-” 

Obi-Wan lifted a hand, very certain he didn’t want to hear any more about that, lest he decide to pull up his very first ‘Do and Don’t of being a Guide’ text on a datapad and force his former master to read the very first chapter about how forcing meditation almost always caused more harm than good. He lowered his hand when he was sure nothing else that would put his teeth on edge was forthcoming and, ignoring the amused tilt of Windu’s mouth, rubbed thoughtfully at his beard. 

Ten days. That was-

“None of the Guide healers could help?” 

“Anakin doesn’t care much for healers.” Qui-Gon said, fond. Obi-Wan’s fingers flexed, curled tight then opened. “He’s blocked all attempts to reach him.” 

Obi-Wan processed that, distantly impressed that Anakin could block others out even after so long in a Deep Zone state (but then he was Qui-Gon’s chosen one, so maybe this was to be expected and, _honestly_ , such bitter thoughts were completely unbecoming and unwarranted, why did proximity to Qui-Gon never fail to make him become childish, even if only in his private thoughts), and then set it aside to think about later. Only relevant information for now, his own musings another time. “And you think I can get through to him? I don’t think Anakin and I have exchanged more than a greeting in five years.” 

He remembered the boy seeking him out a few times, years ago, but Obi-Wan had...not been as kind as he should have. Even when he’d felt Anakin’s _fearlonelynesssadnessrejectionanger_ tapping against his shields he’d still retreated with little more than a handful of hollow words. He’d turned a blind eye to everything involving his former master, avoiding even the temple gossip when possible. 

It had been unfair of Anakin, he knew it now as he’d known it then. Anakin was just a boy, pulled along by Qui-Gon and the will of the force, far from at fault for Obi-Wan’s petty hurt feelings. But for all that he’d been aware he’d never made the strides to correct the behavior in himself as he should have. It was a flaw, one he should have worked hard to purge from himself because Qui-Gon had taught him better than that, but there was nothing to be done about it now. 

Windu had the grace to cringe before speaking, telegraphing that Obi-Wan was going to hate whatever he said next. “Anakin needs a five point, alpha Guide to bond with him. A bond will give a path to waking him up and stop an inevitable relapse.” 

“And I’m the only unbonded Guide who can match with a five sense Sentinel.” 

He hated it. 

“You won’t be forced to do so.” Windu said, pensive again. “I don't think we should ask it of you, Skywalker is...a lot to ask any person to take on unprepared. It is very clear that Master Jinn hasn’t been training him as one should an omega.” Qui-Gon scoffed but only turned away, silent, when Windu paused. Master Windu eyed him for a beat before continuing. “The only other option is for Master Jinn to sever their training bond and hope the shock leaves Skywalker open enough for the healers to grab a hold.”

That could work. Or, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reflected on the more extreme Sentinel handling techniques, it could cause a mental and physical trauma so severe Anakin’s heart gave out. With healers on standby the situation was in Anakin’s favor, he’d say 75% odds of a recovery, but. 

But a bond and then drawing Anakin out would almost surely work. 

The kind of bond breaking this would require would need to be violent and painful, they would probably stop Qui-Gon’s heart temporarily to feign death, and there would be no remaking it after. It would leave a wound in Anakin, one Obi-Wan didn’t even want to imagine. He still felt the jagged tear where Qui-Gon had torn away from him to focus on Anakin during and that more or less a normal parting, abrupt and unapproved by Obi-Wan as it had been. A death, even a fake one that lasted seconds...well, there was a reason it had the potential to be fatal. 

Not that a forced bond would be much better, for either of them. Anakin would get the worst of it, and it would be good of Obi-Wan to remember that. The boy would be bound to him for life, all of his choices, needs, and wants going forward would be in Obi-Wan's hands. By contrast taking Anakin on as his responsibility, partner, and other half until one of them died was no where near as bad. It was not something one should be pulled into without their consent, and a proper courting period, but most would agree it was better than dying. A bond could be worked within and around but Death, for all that one became one with the Force and was never truly gone, was very...final. Whatever might become of a person after death the fact remained that their life, all of their potential, would be over. 

He hoped Anakin agreed with that sentiment. 

Either way Obi-Wan couldn’t allow such a thing to happen to anyone if he could prevent it. As the council no doubt knew and were counting on (there was no need to demand it of him when he would demand it of himself) but that too was a thought best set aside until later. 

“I’ll do it.” 

Windu sighed then, stood up straighter, face a mask of solemn resignation. “You formally accept all rights and responsibilities for Anakin Skywalker, as his Alpha and Guide? You will do him no harm, allow no harm to come to him, and allow him to do no harm to others? You will take over his training and discipline henceforth?” 

The actual bonding ritual was longer, far more wordy, was meant to have witnesses representing both parties, and mindhealers to perform a handfasting after making certain both were entering with good intentions. And, of course, called for the consent of both parties, one couldn't forget or downplay how that was typically the most important requirement. But as far as a quick and efficient version went Obi-Wan supposed that covered everything. 

“I will.” 

“Then you have the permission of the High Council to pursue a pair bond with Padawan Skywalker, and the two weeks leave to see things put in order.” Windu inclined his head towards the door. “These quarters are keyed to you, to use until you feel Skywalker is able to be moved to your apartments. When you’re both able you’ll be fully debriefed, and the next step discussed. And Master Jinn will formally renounce his position as Skywalker’s master as soon as possible.” The last part was added almost absently, with a flinty look in Qui-Gon’s direction. 

Obi-Wan didn’t know the full weight of it, he was sure there was much he was missing, but he understood that losing Anakin had been the only outcome for Qui-Gon, one way or another. 

It was not as satisfying a revelation as he may have thought it would be, were he a pettier man who enjoyed those kinds of victories. 

He tucked that away for later consideration as well, he was going to have so very much to think about and that was aside from gaining a mate he didn't want and who was very unlikely to want him. It went beside the panic and doubt that wanted to take hold of him, and was locked it all away where it wouldn’t trouble him until he was ready to address it. Calm and determination was left in its place; the force was comforting and warm as he pulled it closer to bolster his nerves. Time to meditate, to truly give the weight that was pressing down on his shoulders to the force, to prepare himself (to take time in the refresher so he didn't go into this smelling like stale, recycled air and sweat, bonding in such a state was a tragedy in and of itself) would have been ideal but there was hardly time to do anything but stand up straighter, take a deep calming breath, and then open the door to his new life. 

Anakin didn’t have the time to wait. 


	2. Naked Cuddling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for injury, violence, implied non-con not directly involving Anakin or Obi-Wan, internalized hatred, and timeline fuckery.

All jedi had some ability to use the force to enhance their senses or mental abilities. What made the Sentinel and Guides among their number unique was the strength and ease with which they could do those things and the control they could exhibit with enough training. Focusing to make ones hearing sharper could be done by anyone, but easily (or even accidentally) slipping into such a state, being able to tune it to focus on a singular sound, to maintain it long enough to follow it? That was something only a Sentinel could do. 

Likewise Guides were able to push the empathy the force could grant a person, and potentially focus it in five different areas. Not all guides were capable of truly grasping all the Points but could touch upon them, the same that all Sentinels couldn’t enhance all five Senses, but could still hear or see even if only touch or taste was enhanced for them. 

The Five Points were Emotional, Physical, Intuition, Projection, and Manipulation. Obi-Wan was strongest in Projection and Manipulation, and lowest in Emotional and Intuition, but he had tested high enough in each area to be counted as a Five Pointer, for what little that was worth. He had found that the separation between the points was nebulous at best, and fairly nonexistent in reality, but he understood the framing was a matter of image and making Sentinels and Guides appear as equals. 

In reality there was often a fair amount of guesswork to be done. He stayed as close to what he’d been taught as he could of course but he’d realized when he started hands-on training that no two Sentinels were the same, and so no two Sentinels would need the same thing from him. Even something like bringing a Sentinel out of a zone, something he’d done a handful of times when he’d shadowed the mind healers and helped with the initiate Sentinels, could go in vastly different ways. 

He imagined a full Drop would be the same but he’d never helped a Sentinel out of one nor been allowed to witness the process. Drops were too serious to have been trusted to him when he was still a padawan and a bit too intimate for anyone to request of him now. Sentinels with a pair bond obviously wanted their bonded if a Drop should occur and for those without bonds there were still Guides they trusted to help, and Obi-Wan wasn’t among that number for anyone except, perhaps, Qui-Gon. 

Once upon a time Obi-Wan would have been confident Qui-Gon would call on him if he needed a Guide, the fact they were both alphas being of no consequence, but he knew now that was not the case. He wasn’t sure it ever had been. The past eight years colored his memories of his time as Qui-Gon’s padawan differently than when he’d been experiencing them. 

He’d always considered himself lucky to not have run into a situation where he had to take on a Drop but now, as he entered the dim room Anakin was being kept, Obi-Wan wondered if he’d been foolish to feel that way. There was a frisson of nervousness in him, trying to make itself known even after trying to tamp down on his emotions. He told himself the Force wouldn’t have brought him there if he couldn’t do this but when his eyes found the bed and the pale form reclining on it, he shivered. 

He couldn’t remember, suddenly, the last time he’d seen Anakin for more than a moment in passing. When had he gotten so much older? No longer a round faced boy with flaxen hair and skin tanned by desert sun, Anakin was a long, lean lump under the blankets. His hair was close cropped and golden, and his skin was an alarming gray. There was a large bacta patch over one of his eyes, stretching from hairline to mid-cheek and sterile white bandages wrapped around his left arm from elbow to wrist. His cheeks were sunken, skin clinging in a way that spoke to weight loss, and one was blemished with the ugly green-yellow of a fading bruise. 

“Knight Kenobi.” Master Lana Fan, a soft spoken Twi’lek he knew well from his time learning with the mind healers, was sitting at Anakin’s bedside. Her hands were holding one of Anakin’s clasped between them and laid on the boy’s stomach. She smiled at him, a small and tired quirk of her lips. “Congratulations on your impending bonding.” 

Fan was a master Guide and healer and, as far as Obi-Wan knew, had been overseeing training of others for longer than he’d been alive and saving the minds and bodies of injured jedi for even longer than that. There were few more capable than she was. It was absurd that he was being given a task she’d been unable to accomplish. 

The “Thank you,” he ground out didn’t come easy, hindered by the dryness of his mouth. 

“Padawan Skywalker is, physically, nearly healed. The ocular implant shows no signs of rejection.”

Obi-Wan blinked, eyes darting back Anakin’s face and the patch over his eye. Ocular implant? Master Windu had said Anakin was injured and losing an eye could certainly be traumatic enough to shock a Sentinel into Dropping, but what had they encountered on their mission that had done so much damage? He hadn’t asked, it wasn’t the time for that kind of briefing, but now that he was looking at Anakin he wished he had. These weren’t small injuries and knowing what had taken place might have helped him lead Anakin back to himself. 

Too little, too late now. 

“You’ll want to uncover the wound around it so it can breathe tonight, then use your judgement on if it will need another bacta treatment. The burn on his arm will need checks for infection daily but I think you’ll be able to forgo having it covered and just applying a thin layer of bacta.” Fan said, gesturing towards the door opposite the entrance, Obi-Wan assumed the refresher was on the other wise. “All the supplies you might need will be there. A droid will bring meals and anything else you require but otherwise you’ll be entrusted with Skywalker’s care.” 

He nodded; that wasn’t unexpected but it was a bit...intimidating. Bonding pairs were left to themselves for up to two weeks, to allow them to come together within the bond, unhindered by the presence of others. Isolation rooms like this, built to keep out all scents, sounds, and the presence of others as much as was possible, were a good way to go about that. 

Of course a pair usually had spoken recently and knew each other well before being expected to spend two weeks with only each other as company. 

“He responds well to physical touch.” Master Fan added. 

“Thank you Master Fan.” He forced himself to move closer, placing one heavy foot in front of the other. “I can take over from here, if there’s nothing else.”

He would never be so pointed normally but time was of the essence. Letting his manners falter some would have to be excused in this case. 

Master rose smoothly to her feet, laying Anakin’s hand down onto the bed gently, then stepped away. He nodded his thanks as he stepped around her; her light powdery scent teased as his nose but only for a moment. At Anakin’s bedside the younger omega’s scent immediately took over; warm and bright, rich and familiar, yet he couldn’t think of anything to liken it too. It was, even in his injured state, as appealing as an omega’s scent ever was to Obi-Wan. 

“Be careful with yourself Knight Kenobi.” Master Fan said, drawing his attention back to her. “Padawan Skywalker is strong, and so is his pain. Losing both of you would be a tragedy beyond measure.” 

“I...yes, of course.” 

She smiled again, but it didn’t touch the seriousness of her eyes. “May the Force keep you both safe and whole in each other.”

Obi-Wan stayed standing until the door shut behind her and chimed to confirm it was locked, and would stay that for all but the droid who delivered meals and Obi-Wan himself if he needed to leave for some reason. He took a moment to push the chair back against the wall then stepped right to the edge of Anakin’s bed, once again taking in the younger man. His training for this said he should start by attempting to make contact with Anakin, using his voice or touch to ground the Sentinel. He knew that wasn’t going to work, all of the other Guides would have tried it and, apparently, been kept out. 

The point of the bond was to force contact. 

He looked at the long, graceful curve of Anakin’s neck and sighed. 

Best get to it. 

Mindful of Master Fan’s words he began striping off his clothing. Robe, tabard, tunic, undershirt, pants and, after a pause, underwear were all folded and set on the chair. He lifted Anakin’s blanket, not sure if he was pleased or not to find the omega’s shirtless, and slipped underneath. He didn’t allow himself to look past the waist, Anakin deserved whatever privacy Obi-Wan could give him, but he was acutely aware of the press of bare skin against his own as he made a place for himself. He did his best to not jostle the omega too much as he pressed against the omega’s side, skin to skin from toe to shoulder. Anakin was hot, omegas had higher body temperatures than betas and alphas but even with that in mind Anakin was hot, everywhere his body touched Obi-Wan’s radiating heat. 

Anakin’s scent was stronger with proximity; it filled Obi-Wan’s mouth and lungs with a heady spiced sweetness. 

He used his hand to tilt Anakin’s head back, stretching his neck to give himself access to his mating gland. Obi-Wan swallowed and, huffing out a breath, leaned down to fit his mouth against the raised bit of flesh. Thin oil coated his tongue, leaving a musky flavor in its wake; his stomach fluttered with a bloom of heat. 

He never, not once, imagined he’d be setting his teeth to someone’s mating gland. He’d never considered how his body would react, heart skipping a beat then pounding like it did when he fought and throat tightening, blood rushing south. He’d never imagined how, when his teeth broke skin, his thoughts would cloud and his stomach drop.

Obi-Wan hadn’t known, even with hearing the experiences of others, that the world would _change._

Nothing could have possibly prepared him for the wave of Emotion that rolled over him, knocked him flat and then drug him out into a deep, black tar pit of Pain and Rage and Hate. 

Hurt. 

How could one person hold so much hurt? 

\---

Anakin stormed across the desert that wasn’t really the desert because it was a forest, tall wildlife in pinks and shining blues reaching towards a brilliant pink sky. The ground was firm beneath his feet but when he looked down it was sand, white sucking sand that clung to the ends of his robe. His ‘saber was heavy in his hand, blade flashing and humming with strain as he cut through the bodies keeping him from his goal. 

There were bodies all around, laid over each other, cut down.

The force was screaming around at him, at him, crying out with a voice that had once sung him to sleep. Every death took something from him, hurt him as another life was abruptly snuffed out. 

Every death fed him, surged through him with an electric jolt, sharpened his vision, his hearing, his movements; he’d never been stronger. 

He found her, brutalized, torn apart and bleeding pain into the air, into his lungs, into the marrow of his bones, choking him with an impossibly strong hand around his neck, holding him pinned against a broad chest as a rough tongue traced the shell of his ear. There was laughter, low and disgusting and he knew this sound, had heard it more than once when men came to their home, sniffing after the mateless omega woman. 

He killed, killed, killed, hated them, hated all of them, he would leave nothing left, not a spark of life, none of them deserved it, monsters, animals, running and screaming and cowering, begging, His master shouted for him to be let go, face hard and backlit by fire and

He was pushed away, out of his house and way from her, unable to do a thing because he was too small, because he had failed her again, because he was weak, they were making him weak, Omegas Were All So Weak, he needed to be stronger he

 **“I will make you stronger.”** Soft, oily promise, dug deep into the back of his mind, gleaming eyes and the smile of his only friend, warped, harsh, hungry. 

He slapped a hand to his eye and the world was hot, searing pain, he was on his belly, torn apart like she’d been torn apart, burning he was burning, screaming screaming screaming as the world went dark. Anakin was

_‘Anakin.’_

Anakin stormed across the desert that wasn’t really the desert-

‘ _Anakin!’_

The ground beneath his feet trembled. He tripped, fell to his knees on hard packed dirt, in endless white, gritty sand, on burning misshapen rock that rippled and oozed as the molten liquid beneath burst through. He clutched his weapon tighter, gaze darting around to find the source of the voice that

That he hadn’t heard?

There was no one there (there were bodies so many bodies not enough), no sound, there was just 

_‘Anakin, it’s time to leave this place. It’s time to wake up.’_

He shook his head. He couldn’t leave (because he had no wasn’t done, because he couldn’t leave her, because he was crying outside of their tiny hut while she cried inside because-) 

He gasped and the world shook- no, it thumped, gentle, steady, as warmth wrapped around him like a blanket, brushed over his hair, grasped his face gently. He smelled salt and a damp woodsy something. He closed his eyes, or maybe they’d been closed all along, and breathed it in deeper. 

“Will you come to me?” 

He couldn’t. He turned his head and saw the village, burning all around him, saw a yellowed smile stretched wide, golden eyes, and red, black, red. He saw himself, but not himself, warped inside, he saw her, left forgotten in a corner, life draining like water between his fingers, spilling out and away from him

“I can wait if you aren’t ready.” Thumpbump. The world swelled. Thumpbump. Trembled. Thumpbump. Dimmed. “Just listen for now.” 

He could listen, could let the press of warmth against him, holding him, and the mild, almost familiar scent, close in around him. Everything else was smothered, pushed away. Words were murmured at him, words that he knew. 

“I am one with the force, and the force is with me. I am one with the force, and the force is with me.” 

He was closer to the voice, heard it clearer with each repetition. Once, twice, ten times, twenty, again and again, in time with the unchanging rhythm thrumming in the background. 

Thumpbump. 

“I am one with the force, and the force is with me.”

Thumpbump. 

“I am one with the force, and the force is with me.”

Thumpbump 

“I am one with the force, and-” 

The first thing Anakin saw when he woke up was white. A long stretch of white, right beneath his cheek, rising and falling just slightly. He was warm, very warm, and very sore and tired-how was he tired hadn’t he just woken up what was happening- and that voice was still there, low and calm but more hoarse, tired, than he thought it was in...in what? 

Where had he heard it before? 

Something shifted against him, heated and lightly furred and all at once Anakin was aware of a hand carding through his hair, at the small of his back, of a thick, firm something pressed between his legs and

He yelped then groaned; his throat was raw and just that noise felt like glass trying to push its way out of his throat. 

The voice went silent and the hand on his head went still. He tried to pull away, to sit up, to remember how he’d ended up flopped all over another person when the last thing he remembered was

Was

Taking a lightsaber slash across the face. 

The memory of pain was enough to have him gagging. He forgot about the person in bed (IN BED! Qui-Gon was going to kill him!) with him in favor of feeling along his face. Or he could have, had a hand not caught his wrist before he could do so. 

“Don’t touch your bandage.” Anakin looked up, met gray-blue eyes, and forgot how to breathe. 

In Bed. With Obi-Wan. He’d had his head on Obi-Wan’s _chest_ , had his hands on him, was pressed tight against his side, was in his arms, what the kriff?

“Hello.” The older man said, as if this was an everyday occurrence and not...not normal. Very not normal. Obi-Wan didn’t even look his way, ever, and hadn’t in years. He’d become a knight and moved on to doing important things, becoming the kind of jedi that all the other padawans whispered about and looked up, and hadn’t had time for Anakin since. He’d tried at first, often sneaking away from Qui-Gon in search of the only other person he knew, but Obi-Wan had always been short with him. 

Not mean or impatient like some of the trainers were, or annoyed like the other initiates and padawans could be, just quick to send him back from where he’d come from. Too busy for one little boy out of so many at the Temple (because of course Anakin was just like all the other children to him, what else could he be?), too busy to listen to him babble about his stupid starter lessons and the fights he got into (and usually lost, at first, and then eventually always won) or the places he’d snuck into. 

It wasn’t like they’d been friends. 

Anakin didn’t really have friends, aside from the Chancellor. Not back on Tatooine and not at the temple either. The children he’d trained with hadn’t wanted anything to do with the too old, too far behind kid who got special treatment (funny how Anakin had never felt special), and when he’d matured he’d had to start keeping even more to himself, to keep his secret. 

He’d never wanted anyone to know he was an omega, not even his master, and he’d considered himself lucky that Qui-Gon agreed with keeping himself hidden. His master had been very clear that if the High Council knew about him they would either send him away or, worse, make him bond with someone. 

Omega Sentinels had to let some alpha Guide become their master, and not in the training sense but in the ‘has total control of them’ sense. 

Mate was just another word for owner. 

“Here,” The hand on his back slipped up between his shoulder blades, pressed him forward as Obi-Wan’s other hand gripped his shoulder to pull him back down against his chest. “I can feel how exhausted you are. Drops aren’t restful, and you’re still healing. Let me-”

The hand on his shoulder moved away. Anakin stayed where he was, wide eyed and statue still as his brain tried to understand what was happening. He was still in bed with Obi-Wan. He was being cuddled. He was-

Drop? Had he said Drop? 

A cup of water, a straw leaning against the rim, appeared in his field of vision. “You should drink.” 

Anakin drank. Panic was all well and good but it could wait until after his throat no longer felt like the belt of his metal grinder. 

Except that once he’d drained the cup and settled his head back on Obi-wan’s chest he didn’t feel much like panicking either. In fact he felt very much like sleeping, bone deep tiredness rushing up and threatening to swallow him whole. 

“Relax, dea- Anakin.” Obi-wan’s fingers stroked his hair again. “I’ll explain everything when you wake up again.” 

\---

Anakin pouted in his sleep. Obi-Wan ran a thumb over his bottom lip, feeling very much like he was taking liberties he shouldn’t, and tried not to think about the golden, pulsing thread of life, of presence, of being, of strange primal need and want, of _Anakin_ , that was unfurling and growing inside of him, fitting perfectly into cracks he hadn’t realized needed filled 

He also didn’t want to think about the black, stickiness he’d nearly been swallowed by when the fresh bond had opened Anakin up to him. There was the raw half moon wound his teeth had left in Anakin’s neck, and how it now tied them together, but no, he’d rather not get into that just yet either because he no longer had any idea what, who, it was he’d just made his other half. 

There was so much in Anakin. So much brightness, a golden supernova somehow contained in thin human skin, but also a cold, hungry, furious darkness that had nearly devoured him in less than a second of contact.

Obi-Wan didn’t know what to do with that, or how intoxicating it had been before he’d slammed his shields up against it, of how it had lurked just at the edge of the both of them as he tried to lead Anakin back, or how it had completely vanished when Anakin had woken up. 

Which left him with little except the curve of Anakin’s mouth to contemplate. 

It was, he would admit to no one but himself and with no small amount of guilt, a nice mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rarely update this quickly but sometimes we get lucky. ;)
> 
> Next Chapter: Sharing a Shower

**Author's Note:**

> Next Prompt: Naked Cuddles: Obi-Wan realizes that getting through to Anakin is going to be harder than he anticipated, so he pulls out all of his tricks.


End file.
